THE LAST KEEPER

Most of the food had already disappeared, a testament to how much punishment Sagiri’s body had endured recently. Zifara leaned back in his chair, swirling a cup of tea while studying the city below. Koru was seated opposite him, his broad frame taking up half his chair as he worked through another plate of meat. Sagiri sat between them in silence, his amber eyes fixed on the sea of lights beyond the balcony. The three appeared relaxed to any observer, but the conversation taking place was anything but casual.

"The marriage proposal didn’t appear out of nowhere," Zifara finally said, breaking the silence.

"Obviously, someone pushed it. Have never seen such an obvious stunt," Koru grunted his agreement.

"And someone was confident enough to believe their daughter could become a Kun," Sagiri said and the word kun hung in the word hung heavily in the air. Becoming Sagiri’s wife was one thing. Becoming a Kun was another entirely. It came with influence, status, and proximity to one of the most important figures in the realm.

No ambitious family would ignore such an opportunity.

"Which means they expected the proposal to succeed," Zifara continued thoughtfully. "Or they expected to gain something even if it failed." Koru tore another piece of meat apart with little effort.

"The question is who." Zifara spoke again. His eyes narrowed.

"Most chiefs know Sagiri isn’t interested in marriage," Koru said

"Exactly," Zifara replied. "Which means whoever started this either doesn’t know him well enough... or knows him too well." Sagiri remained silent throughout the discussion, occasionally lifting a cup of broth to his lips. His lack of participation did not bother the other two. They had long ago learned that his silence usually meant he was listening.

"There is also the timing. How perfect. Those old foxes at the council never stop." Zifara added.

"That bothers me more than the proposal itself. Why now? Why immediately at the festival? They knew he could not refuse, as many people hold marriage to be a blessing?" Koru’s chewing slowed.

"You think it was deliberate?" Zifara said. It was not a question

"I think someone wanted to place a daughter under Sagiri’s nose, or even worse, a killer." The balcony fell quiet for a moment. Below them, the city continued moving as though nothing was wrong. Merchants closed stalls. Families gathered for meals. Children ran through lantern-lit streets.

Somewhere within the city, someone had made a move. This was a clear move to reduce Sagiri’s strength. A marriage could not be put off forever.

The question was whether it had been a political move, a personal one, or something far more dangerous. Azir finally poured more tea into the cups.

"The problem," he said calmly, "is that there are too many people who would benefit from such a marriage." Zifara sighed. "Chiefs. Merchants. Council members. Half the realm would marry their daughters off tomorrow if they thought they had a chance."

Koru snorted. "Half the realm is delusional."

For the first time all evening, a faint sound escaped Sagiri. Not quite a laugh. Not quite a scoff. Somewhere in between. The other two exchanged glances before returning their attention to the city. Whatever game was being played had already begun. The only question now was who had made the first move and whether they understood exactly whose attention they had just attracted.

The conversation gradually died as the evening deepened and the lantern-lit city below grew brighter. At some point, Sagiri’s responses became shorter and farther apart until they stopped altogether.

Zifara noticed it first. The chief was still seated upright in his chair, one arm resting on the armrest and his head tilted slightly to the side. For a moment, it looked as though he was merely listening. Then Koru glanced over and barked out a laugh.

"Finally." He leaned back heavily in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "After a month, he sleeps." There was no mockery in his voice, only relief. Zifara released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

For a month, Sagiri had barely slept. When he did, it was for a few minutes here and there before waking again. The fact that he had fallen asleep in the middle of a conversation was perhaps the strongest proof of how exhausted he truly was and another proof that Azir’s remedies had worked magic.

For a few peaceful seconds, the balcony remained quiet.

Suddenly, a distant roar shook the city. The sound rolled across the desert like thunder given life. Every conversation in the streets below died instantly. Every musician stopped playing. Every dancer froze. Even the festival seemed to hold its breath. Another roar followed, louder and closer this time.

Thousands of eyes turned toward the desert beyond the city walls. Something massive was moving. The darkness that had just begun to frown on the horizon to welcome the night after sunset seemed to darken and shift as a colossal shadow emerged from the darkness.

Zaira had returned.

The beast’s body stretched across the landscape like a moving mountain. It was moving fast even from a distance, and it only slowed down a bit as it moved across the city, but every step sent tremors through the streets. Buildings that had seemed enormous moments ago now looked insignificant beside it.

The creature moved through the city with calm familiarity, its immense form weaving between districts as citizens rushed to balconies, rooftops, and windows to watch. Children pointed excitedly while elders bowed their heads in respect. No matter how many times they witnessed it, the sight never became ordinary.

The guardian beast crossed the outer city without slowing, its now golden eyes fixed on a single destination. They turned crimson as it crossed in on its target. The tall building where Sagiri sat sleeping. The festival remained suspended as everyone watched. The giant beast eventually reached the structure and lowered its colossal head beside the balcony.

Its eyes settled on Sagiri. For a long moment, it simply stared. Then a deep hum rumbled from its chest. The sound vibrated through the building itself. Perhaps approval for seeing its master not in pain. Zifara smiled faintly while Koru shook his head.

"Possessive beast," he muttered.

As though hearing him, one enormous eye shifted briefly toward Koru before dismissing him entirely. The creature’s tail rose from behind its body and swept forward with impossible precision for something so large. The dark appendage wrapped gently around the sleeping supreme chief. Sagiri didn’t wake. Not even when the tail lifted him from his chair.

The beast moved with the care one might use to handle a newborn child. Slowly, it placed him atop its massive head between two armored ridges. Sagiri shifted slightly in his sleep but otherwise remained unconscious. Another approving hum escaped the beast. Then, with its burden secured, Zaira turned. The crowd below erupted into cheers and excited chatter as the mountain-sized creature began moving once more. Streets parted before it. Lanterns flickered in its passing wake.

The festival gradually resumed, though countless eyes remained fixed on the departing guardian. High above the city, Sagiri slept peacefully atop the beast’s head while Zaira carried him toward the inner city. The image was so familiar and yet so profound that many citizens would later speak of it for years,

The night their guardian returned from the desert, he found the sleeping chief and carried him home.

The archivist was beside himself with his pen in hand, itching. Recently, he had been very busy.